Famous Crossovers: Assassins
by TheMysteriousGuy
Summary: Corvo and Ezio are sent to assassinate each others allies, and end up meeting in the middle. Follows the endings of Revelations and the Low Chaos ending. Rated M for alcohol, Violence, and suggestive themes
1. Chapter 1

This is my second crossover, where Dishonored and Assassin's Creed collide. This is the realm and time of Revelations and the low chaos ending of Dishonored.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own any of the fictional characters, places, or ideas represented in either Assassin's Creed or Dishonored.

* * *

Ezio Auditore de Firenze was finally in Dunwall. It took a very long time to get into or out of the supercity, and it had been nearly a year of messengers and documents before he had set sail, Never before had he given so many signatures to the same source. Now, standing just at the edge of the city, he saw why.

Dunwall's technological advancements were ten times beyond what he had ever imagined. Odd horseless carriages flew down streets, steady flames were suspended in clear spheres, and lightning crackled at every arch, ready to strike at robbers. Even the road beneath his feet was unusually solid and dark. Trying to take it all in, Ezio led Sophia to their suite at the edge of Kaldwin's bridge.

"In a city of wonder, this is a fine Dunwall suite?" Ezio scowled. Like many older buildings, it had to vacate itself of a few rodents before going silent. He walked into a room with a decent bed and set down his bags, taking extra care with his weapons. "Just pick a room and set yourself up. We should not be here long."

"Tell me again why you are in this city in the first place," came the reply. Sophia was not particularly pleased with the overall cleanliness of their temporary dwelling. "I do not want to leave my book shop unattended for too long, and it doesn't seem worthwhile to take a trip from Constantinople to Dunwall for a single mission."

"The assassins of this city tell me that the Templars took down the former Lord regent so as to retain Templar control their order in the city. I must find the current monarch lest we lose Assassin control over the city." He grabbed his gauntlets, checked his gun, bullets, and darts, and put them on. "From here to the palace is one day. With the conflict, stealth, and a two way trip, I may be gone for three."

"That is fine, as long as there is a reason." Sofia walked over to one of the few chairs in the dim room and pulled out a copy of _The Odyssey._ "I will have more than enough to do."

Ezio finally pulled on a shirt and pants that would fit in with the "fine" Englishmen of the city while concealing his tool-loaded gauntlets as well. He walked out of his room and spun around once.

"Very much like a business scoundrel," Sophia remarked, glancing up.

"Just remember," he reminded her, "Nobody comes in, whether they bear the mark of the Assassins or not."

"I know, now get out of here before I regret coming along!" she replied.

_"Grazie,"_ he replied, before walking out into the streets of Dunwall. Once the door was locked, he strolled out into the warm noon sun. Checking his pockets for his newly converted money one last time, he paid his way into a taxi and began moving incognito to Dunwall Tower. Every time he left a crowd or met someone's eyes, he felt a shiver go up his spine. He kept telling himself that he was just another Dunwall citezen, enjoying the many benefits of the odd flourescent oil derived from whales.

_That's right,_ he told himself over and over again. _Nothing to fear…_

* * *

"Sokolov!" Corvo called out into the tower workshop. "What I want to know is why I found another bottle of whiskey under Emily's bed when I told you specifically not to give her any!" He walked up the metal stairs and found Piero sipping his own Scotch. "Piero, Has Sokolov given Emily any more alcohol?" he asked, calming himself down.

"I don't think he's been to the distillery in quite some time," Piero replied honestly. "He's driving himself mad without his King Street Brandy, but he's been busy as of late, so…"

Corvo had already left after tossing a large coin in Piero's direction. He sprinted up to Emily's bedroom and tried the door, which he found locked. Peering through the keyhole, he saw what he expected and dreaded at the same time: a 17-year-old Emily in a white nightgown, swigging directly from a bottle of fine Irish whisky. With a surge of power, he blew down the door and stepped in.

"Corv-hic" she managed before Corvo had forcefully yet gently taken the bottle off of her. He opened the window and emptied the bottle onto the stone path below.

"Emily, what I told you was that you could have certain alcohols made here, and ONLY here," Corvo managed without yellng. "I did not say that you were allowed to chug-" He checked the label and continued –"135 PROOF WHISKEY FROM OUTSIDE THIS TOWER!"

"But-hic"

"Emily," Corvo said, controlling his anger. "You are the empress of a powerful city. People want you dead. You cannot get anything that hasn't been accepted by our royal staff. If that were poisoned-"

"I DON'T CARE! YOU-hic-SAID IT YOURSELF I AM A-hic-ADULT SO LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Corvo knew there was more to it, but for now, he nodded his head. She had gone from the small, roly-poly child to a tall, formal woman with long black hair and a serious approach, although she still laughed and smiled at humor. And, while she wasn't an alcoholic or a drunkard, she was as much of a liquor sponge as he was, if not more.

The truth came with a sniffle and another hiccup. "She died today."

Corvo had a feeling that was the problem. This was the day her mother had been killed, seven years ago. He felt the same way himself, but, old as she was, he still held in emotions better than she did. "Yes, I realize that. But if you don't want to meet the same fate, you need to exercise caution."

Emily hugged him tightly, and he returned it, holding her for some time. Drying her tears but still highly intoxicated, she pointed at a pile of four similar bottles on the floor, all of which were totally empty. Corvo couldn't help letting a strange feeling of pride fill him, but he had actual news to deliver.

"I'm going away for a little while."

"Why?" Emily asked before letting another hiccup out.

"The guards have heard that a woman is selling illegal weapons and inciting riots south of here," he said. "I'll go and arrest her personally, because, apparently, she has become quite popular and any amount of men I send down there at once may be killed." He pulled something out from behind his back and said, "Remember me?"

He gave her instructions to stay in the tower until he was back and left her his own personal bottle of Scotch that had been checked for poisons. Walking out of the tower, he looked back once more, then lifted the object over his face and clasped it on.

The Masked Assassin was ready.

* * *

The next update may not be for a while, because I am working on two stories at the same time.


	2. Chapter 2

Ezio stepped off his boat, paid the driver, and walked up a short staircase to find his inn. He found a small workshop and saw some interesting supplies on its table. Filing the location of possible bomb ingredients away for later, he passed the enclosure and walked into the Hound Pits Pub.

There was some music coming from a perfectly out of tune piano hidden somewhere in the deserted bar. He took a seat at the bar and called for the bartender. "I would enjoy a whiskey and a room for the night," he said, eyeing the many types of liquor that bore the Dunwall Whiskey Distillery's mark.

"Comin' right up," the man replied in a deep, gruff voice. He filled a fine crystal glass with a crisp, golden liquid, before sliding it down to Ezio. He took a sip, finding it to be very good. "So who are you?" The barkeep asked, noting the business suit Ezio wore. "Not many people come to a bar like this in their formal attire."

"I am... Richard Worley," the assassin answered, seeing the man's broadsword and trying to reveal as little as possible. "I am on my way to the Tower of Dunwall on some… let us say, important business. I am sought by the Lady Emily."

"Uh huh," grumbled the barkeep, keeping his eyes on the assassin's. "You know, we had her for a while when she was young. That was during the time of Hiram Burrows." He stared at the Assassin. "Real nice girl. Wouldn't want any harm to come to her."

"I see," Ezio responded, feeling the tension grow.

"Hmmm…" went the barkeep. "Here's the key to your room, pal. Don't leave with it."

"_Grazie,_" Ezio thanked the man before getting up and leaving the room. Apparently the clothes weren't enough, because he heard the man's steps and knew what was about to happen.

"You aren't killin' that woman on my watch!" the furious barkeep shouted, running with his sword drawn. "I'll kill you!"

Ezio spun and bent his hand back. The bartender drove all 8 inches of Ezio's hidden blade into his chest. He looked down, seeing the hole in his chest, and fell to the ground. "Corvo'll find you. You'll never make it out alive…" he managed before dying.

Ezio closed the man's eyes and lowered his body into the hole leading to the sewers. _Lucky_, he thought, wondering what the sewer entrance under the stairs was used for. He climbed to the top floor and found his bedroom, with a piece of paper sticking out of the pillow. He found an odd image on it and examined it closer. It was a crude crayon drawing of a man with a sword and some type of mask, with one word above its head

* * *

Corvo didn't want news of his arrival to get to his target before he did, so he couldn't travel the streets. He would have to break some rules.

Now he was sprinting across the rooftops in broad daylight, but still avoiding any chance of being seen by the royal guard. Right now, he was not Corvo Attano, royal protector. He was the masked assassin, a killer whose identity was not known by anyone but him and Emily. If he was seen, he would be attacked.

He made a jump and grunted as he landed on the next rooftop. The buildings were looking much better these days, with barely any holes to patch. Ever since Hiram had been removed from the throne, the city's condition had slowly improved. So, unfortunately for him at this moment, had the number of perceptive eyes.

"Look at dat!" a thug below pointed at him. His partner didn't obey, but kept looting the purse of the woman they had cornered. Corvo decided he had time for this, and jumped down.

"Oh shi-" the observant of the two exclaimed, before Corvo's blade entered his neck, slicing his vocal cords and major arteries alike. As he choked on his own blood, Corvo fired a single bolt from his crossbow. It entered the back of the other thug's skull and broke on the other side. The thug fell to the ground, dead, and Corvo handed the lady her purse, which was relatively undamaged.

He looked upwards, concentrated on a single spot on the building next to him, and released his power. The mark on his hand glowed, and he sped up the side, landing on a thick, round metal pipe. Ignoring the lady's pleas for his name, he began running again.

Eventually he had made his way along the coast to what he deemed a worthy stopping point. He hopped down some rusted staircases and blinked to the ground. He stood and looked at the large slanted sign above the door.

The Hound Pits Pub.

He ealked forward, already in anticipation of a warm bed for once the night, and entered the building. It was getting late, and he decided this would be as good a resting spot as any. He didn't notice the absence of the barkeep and climbed the stairs to the room he had occupied in the days of Hiram Burrows. He opened the door...


	3. Chapter 3

Ezio heard the footsteps and quickly realized that, because his room had already seen service, it wasn't going to be a maid. He dove into the next room as the door opened slowly. He peered around the corner, taking care to keep in the shadows.

What entered the room nearly made him lose it and blow his cover. A tall, hooded figure came in without a single sound. It could have been a member of the Assassin's Guild, but the robe was much too dark in color. The most disturbing part, however, was its mask.

Ezio was sure that Satan probably wore something similar. The eyes, the mouth-like shards of metal… The entire image was horrifying. Ezio realized that it was probably the same figure as the one in the drawing he now held.

He/she started feeling around in the pillow, as if searching for the very piece of paper he now held. "What?" the figure, whose voice determined its masculinity, said in confusion. It went back out the door, and Ezio decided to follow.

The robed man went down the stairs quickly, not noticing the Assassin trailing behind him. He went into the bar room and called out, "Samuel! I thought I told you the top floor was off limits!" When he got no response, he realized something was wrong. To Ezio's horror, the first place he went was to the sewer entrance.

"What…" the masked figure breathed as he picked up the deceased form of Samuel, his former boatman and recent owner of the Hound Pits Pub. "Who would do this?" Ezio reacted too late, and the man caught a glimpse of his shoe as he ran back upstairs.

Ezio knew he was being chased, but he was certain he could outrun the man. This was his first mistake. He stopped in the bedroom and turned around to see the figure in midair, coming straight at him.

The pair hit the ground, still grappling. Ezio extended his poisoned blade again, a new coat of green liquid shining in the dim light. The blade pierced his attacker's skin just for a moment, and Ezio knew he was done for. He left the ground and jumped out a window, sprinting as fast as he could across the rooftops nearby.

He shouldn't have been so sure of his success. Unbeknownst to him, Corvo Attano was a tough man to poison, and Ezio's civilian-oriented salve wasn't going to work.

* * *

Corvo felt a burning in his shoulder, and he knew he had been struck. Apparently he had underestimated the man he was grappling with. As the man left through a window, he realized what he had been struck with.

_The assassins._

As the toxin began taking its toll, Corvo stood, struggling to lift himself off the ground. Once he was on two feet, he stumbled over to the window. Ezio was fast, but he was also clearly outlined against the sunset. Corvo knew he didn't have much time before either the poison knocked him out or his target escaped.

He brought out his crossbow and hit a green button. A tranquilizer dart loaded itself into the barrel. Corvo wanted an interrogation before he had to kill the Assassin. He lifted the crossbow and took aim even as his vision blurred and he could hear his own heartbeat.

_Thump._ Ezio grew farther and farther away.

_Thump._ Corvo put pressure on the trigger.

_Thump._ Ezio was almost at the edge of the building…

Corvo fired the dart.

The dart flew with incredible speed and accuracy towards the horizon. Corvo saw Ezio jump off the edge and begin his descent to the earth.

He saw the midair spasm induced by a direct hit with a dart.

Knowing he had hit his mark, Corvo's eyes drooped. He slunk down to the ground and set down the weapon.

_Thump._

_ Thump._

_ Thump…_

* * *

Ezio felt a sharp pain in his back just as he fell to the ground. He hit the dirt of the alleyway below in a somewhat successful roll. He reached behind him and plucked something from his back.

It was a crossbow dart, now emptied.

Ezio grumbled and went on, but the effort required grew by the second. He felt his muscles relaxing, his eyes struggling to stay open, and his movements more and more sluggish. Knowing the inevitable, he crawled back into the shadows and let the sandman take over. _Goodbye, Sophia…_ he thought, mistaking the anesthetic effects for those of a neurotoxin. _It had to happen eventually…_

* * *

"You are sure they have left?" Two men conversed in the empty night of Clavering Boulevard.

"Yes, my lord. Both the Protector and the Assassin have embarked on their respective missions." The other man took a swig of whiskey and put the bottle back next to his scabbard. "You want to be back at the tower by tomorrow?"

"Yes. I will enjoy the end of Lady Emily's reign."

They climbed into a rail car, the larger of the two taking the driver's seat. As they made their way to the Tower of Dunwall, the slender conspirator thought about what he would do when he reclaimed the throne.

_First, I'll have some personal business to attend to,_ Hiram Burrows thought, a smile creeping up his pale, hollow face.


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter is pretty long, and is only in Ezio's POV. The next will be Corvo's, so don't worry.

* * *

Ezio woke up later in the night, his back to the streets and his face in the gutter. Good thing, too, because whatever plant was used in that sedative was not friends with Ezio's body. He retched, making sure none of his clothing was caught in the spray. Once he was done, he realized that he was alive, which meant he still had a mission to complete.

He picked himself up with a grunt and waited a few seconds for the vicious pounding in his veins to fade. Making sure that he still had everything he would need, he wobbled his way up to the rooftops with slowly increasing confidence. Once he had reached the top, he continued on his way towards the residence of Dunwall's leader.

Soon, he was running full speed in the night, barely making a sound. He stuck to the lower rooftops, lest the full moon's light make him a plain silhouette to any viewer. The assassin's form remained unnoticed until he arrived at the docks, which were the only way in and out of the tower as far as he knew. He searched for the boat his informant had lent him, and he sped off across the silvery, moonlit waters.

He entered the lock and scanned the platforms above with his eagle vision and took note of the one guard in close proximity above. In his best English accent, he shouted, "Going up!" The guard looked down and, in the dim light, could not make out any definite features, but to be safe, he decided he would hold the guest here until a higher authority could confirm this man's identity.

The water rose, and the guard continued peering down at Ezio, not noting the Assassin's unique complexion until it was too late. A quick jab with a poisoned blade, and he decided the man was probably fine. In fact, he seemed quite pleeaaassaannnttt….

Ezio strode out of the boat as the guard behind him stumbled around in his last moments of life. He saw a clear path, straight ahead, and thought about how easy this would be, until he saw the tallboys. They strode around with incendiary missiles at the ready, on high legs and a great view of any assassins that decided to approach.

Ezio grabbed a simple pouch with adhesive points around it. Super-technology or not, Ezio had a few tricks up his own sleeve. Taking his aim carefully, he lobbed it in a high arc. The pouch hit the tallboy closest to him, and its signature hissing began. After about 5 seconds, the British gunpowder and the coal dust inside mixed, letting out an incredibly loud noise. The tallboy was shoved a few yards forward by the blast and nearly lost his balance. The other two left their positions around the yard and followed the mass of guards towards their stunned comrade, not noticing Ezio as he ran behind them.

The assassin climbed the building and made his way in through an air vent, still in awe of the technological accomplishments of the city. He popped out on the inside and noticed that, unlike reports of Dunwall from years back, it was not filled with guards, but with nobles, most of which were either leaving or chatting idly at tables. He stepped into a group of three or five and made his way to where the Lady Emily's bedchambers were, shifting between groups as necessary.

Instead of going straight in, he went into the room to the left and climbed out the window. Crossing the short distance, he looked inside for an elderly, possibly sleeping ruler.

He didn't find one.

Instead, his eyes were greeted with a teenage girl, much like his first girlfriend in many ways. She was getting out of her formal attire and into a nightgown of the same white color. Ezio found himself looking away for embarrassment, even though he was supposed to assassinate this girl. He had never killed such a young target, but if she was a templar operative…

He slid into the room as she continued undressing. He waited for her to get into her nightgown, which would make the body lighter for him to carry.

Just as she was sliding her arms into their respective sleeves, he attacked.

His plan had been to simply slit her throat, but he found he could not bring himself to harm such a young person without a much higher incentive, whether or not she was a templar. Instead, he threw his arm around her neck and closed her jugular vein and artery. She threw her hands up to stop him, but was already losing consciousness. With one final gasp, she went limp.

He kept her brain cut off for a few seconds more, just to ensure that she was definitely unconscious and not just faking it. He released her neck and saw color rush back into her features. Picking her limp form back up off the ground, he threw her, face down, over his shoulder and balanced her carefully. _Why am I doing this?_ he thought, still contested over whether to kill her or not.

* * *

As the Lady breathed ever so lightly, he jumped out into the night once again, ready to find out why someone would have him end this woman with no interrogation. He kept going towards his Sofia, albeit a bit slower with an extra 125 pounds on one shoulder. He made it about a third of the way there before he decided to rest.

Stashing the lady in an alleyway, he bought some sausages and pears with some of his precious Dunwall coin. He sat down next to her and started on one of the sausages. It was very good, much better than he had expected from a low-grade vendor. Unfortunately, Lady Emily thought so too. The smell of fresh cooked food brought her back to her senses, and she rubbed her eyes wearily. "Where am I…" she groaned, before seeing the Italian before her. "Did… Did you…" Then she remembered what she had last been doing and tried to hide her body as best she could. "What… Why… No! You took me from the tower, didn't you? You're one of those people Corvo warns me about-"

"Listen, Emily-"

"Someone hired you to kill me, didn't they? Oh, god, No! You already got my mother, but you won't get me!" She stood up and made a break for the streets. Ezio sprung up and caught her bare foot, causing her to fall. He reached her wrist and shook her hard enough to get her attention.

"Listen now! I was hired to kill you under the impression that you were not…" he looked her over. "New to this kind of thing. I was told that you are a Templar operative, but chances are that you have simply been misled. So I need to interrogate you, without any interference. Do you understand?"

Emily gulped, still lying on her back in the gravel. "Fine…" she said slowly, before sitting up. "If you swear that I will be returned safely to the tower as soon as we are done."

Wow. She really was new to this. Most sane rulers would still be running for their lives right now, which meant that she was still generally innocent._ And to think I was to murder her!_ Ezio scolded himself. "I swear by these terms."

"Thank you." Emily, still somewhat wary, brushed the dirt off of herself, before smelling the sausage. Her stomach rumbled right on cue, and she simply stared at Ezio, arms still in a slightly defensive position.

"Go ahead." He removed his formal outer coat and threw it at her. "I had intended to carry you the entire way, which would have been somewhat difficult with your formal-"

"Save it." She ignored the robe until she had scarfed down three entire sausages ravenously. "I've heard every excuse in the book." She continued on the pears, and soon she had consumed everything Ezio had bought.

"Very nice royal etiquette," Ezio noted as she sat down in the dirt once again.

"Well, seeing as how you have simultaneously removed me from all who would care and reduced me to living in the alleys, I don't think manners apply as they normally would."

_Fair enough,_ he had to admit, as she shrugged on his well-oversized attire before giving up and returning it to him. _I'm surprised she has taken this so_ well.

Then he saw a glint of steel headed straight for his face.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry about a very late update, but The Fox Familiar informed me of a number of flaws in my logic, and those had to go first. Thanks to him, this entire scenario makes a little bit more sense. Now here is the next chapter, entirely in Corvo's point of view.

* * *

Something itched terribly in Corvo's right shoulder, and it was bad enough to wake him up. He tried to stand, but his first attempt nearly made him pass out again. The world began pulsing with red as the aftermath of his struggle invaded Corvo's mind. He waited for it to dissapate before trying again, but the toxin was persistant. He got to a semi-standing position before gulping down another of Sokolov's painkillng sollutions.

He was already behind schedule, but he had something to do first. The bodyguard stumbled his way down and around the staircase, taking three at a time with every unsure step. The throbbing in his veins was nearly gone by the time he reached the sewer entrance.

Now for the real task. Taking great care, he tugged Samuel's body off the floor and onto a shoulder. After some time regaining his balance, he solemnly carried his old friend off to the main yard. He left the body face up, eyes closed, with a piece of paper clutched tight in his hands, already rigid with death.

* * *

He had to leave Samuel for this, he told himself. He would fix the problem he had been sent for, and then he would find the assassins. Demand to know which one it was that had killed an innocent man. And rip them apart if they didn't tell him.

The woman, though. As he crossed the shingled rooftops in the night, he had to wonder if he was being led into a trap. He did have some past experience with that sort of thing, after all. _If it is, _his thought darkened, _someone is going down hard._

He made it to the neighborhood he had been informed of without further delay. As he crept around in the shadows, Corvo listened and looked around for any suspicious activity. Finding none only drove him harder to find his target. The faster this got done, the better.

As he landed on one ledge of an apartment building and was about to leap right back off, a form appeared in his world of yellows. A woman, somewhat taller than most and in a wide yellow dress, sat at a desk, writing. Many things struck him as odd immediately. Not all Gristol women were literate, and those who were rarely used their skills so late in the evening. And the dress... Such attire was only worn by royalty, and even then, sparingly.

He fiddled briefly with a feeble chain and slid into the window without a sound. The woman was facing to his right, but he was certain she was paying him no attention before he began moving on. Already, he started concocting methods of taking her down, and silently, and to keep her down until he had delivered her to the local watch. Or, depending on her writings, the nearest overseer.

He decided to keep it simple. Without a single noise, he kept down and made his way around her still unattentive form to get behind her.

Just before he sprang, she stood up.

Instead of grabbing her neck, Corvo's arm wrapped itself around her midsection, and he was forced to tackle her to the ground instead of knocking her out. She let out a suprised grunt and hit the ground with force. She rolled over and coughed out what little air hadn't been forced from her lungs. Before she ever got to inhale, Corvo's rough hand clasped itself over her mouth and nose. Her eyes opened wide as her lungs began to scream their requests at full blast. She looked up and saw him staring back down at her.

As the sight entered her frightful eyes, she attempted to scream and thrashed wildly, suprising her assailant. Corvo fell over, and Sophia scrambled away, still not managing to stop wheezing enough to breath. She grasped at half a mouthful of the sweet, sweet air before the hand closed her off again. And this time, she couldn't escape. As fire enveloped her poor, withering lungs, her brain hit the kill switch, and she blacked out.

* * *

Corvo felt his target's body slacken, and he let her mouth go. Her chest immediately rose and inflated with precious oxygen before slowly resuming its normal pace.

He strolled over to her desm, taking in the contents of her writing. A letter, it seemed, sealed with a familiar marking...

_The Assassins._

He'd have some questions to add to the interrogator's list.

He grabbed her pliant form without half the effort he had used with Samuel, and lept out the window again. He had bad luck in his search for the watch. Maybe the patrols had gone against his hopes tonight. It didn't, however, take long to find an overseer on guard duty.

However, that overseer was a relatively new recruit, or even an apprentice, but he had not been informed that the outsider had found interest in the royal protecter.

Needless to say, a witch wearing Corvo's face and carrying a body around would not inspire many benevolent feelings, even after the mask was removed.

And with a cry of "Heretic!" inspired by a stray glow of Corvo's left hand, he was on the run.

* * *

Corvo awoke next to the witch in an abandoned apartment he had hidden in. Well, fallen in was more like it. Gravity had had lots of fun when music had cut off his teleport early.

He shielded his eyes from the morning sun and rose. A crackle of static from very close by wakened his captive as well, but before she had even formed a thought, the static's source speaker blared to life.

"The young Empress, Lady Emily Kaldwin, has gone missing..."

* * *

Madison King rose, yawning widely and stretching her limbs out fully. She drowsily kicked aside one of her dirty skirts and padded to the window in bare feet. She did not expect the sight that met her on the ground outside her window, directly below her.

She met with the other tennants of the Hound Pits Pub that she had aroused from slumber. One of these was Callista Curnow, who instantly recognized the body.

Unable to speak, Callista held in her tears and plucked the note from Samuel's cold, dead fingers and read, breathing out an "Oh, by the outsider..." Madison grabbed the note and read it for herself as a resident who worked as a doctor examined the body.

_He died fighting. I know it was the Assassin's guild, but I don't know why. I do know this: They aren't done._

_Neither am I._


	6. Chapter 6

Patience is key. It is not just that I am lazy, although that does have something to do with it.

* * *

Ezio was back on the rooftops.

He made sure to evade the few watchtowers he found, but he still tried to figure out what under God it was that made them active. He knew of no substance that glowed so bright before even beginning to burn. One thing was for sure: they were very perceptive.

He had to stop every hour or so to re-inject a sedative into Lady Emily, whose nightgown was in terrible shape after just one day and night outside the tower. Ezio made sure that he never used too much, or too often, or too fast. Not willing to lose her to any ridiculous accidents, he always used a syringe with a crude IV (still a somewhat foreign concept), which a doctor was paid far too much to apply for him.

And every time he sedated her, he tried to slap her awake. He wasn't taking another ambush. When she had pulled a paper-thin stiletto seemingly out of thin air, it was reflex alone that saved him.

Apparently, Gristol outpaced the rest of the planet in acting as well as technology.

It was this way a day and a half later, when the moon just began to rise in its waning glory. Finding a nice (or what passed for it in this district) apartment wih no apparent residency to go through the motions, he laid Emily's now dirty, disheveled form on the floor. He filled the needle to the same dosage as always and slid it deep into the IV. Just before the drug entered her bloodstream, he added a small amount of his only elixir, noting the many cuts and bruises all along her still form.

His hesitation nearly cost him.

Emily mumbled, not entirely out of the last shot's grasp just yet. Her eyes opened sluggishly as her drug-soaked attempted to analyze her surroundings. _Who... Why... The light... warm!_

And with that revelation, she scrambled like a drunken sailor to the window.

At the last minute, she was grabbed again by the assassin's firm hand and injected. Ezio saw her already feeble grip on reality weaken as ahe returned to the sandman, snoring heavily as she seemed to do after every shot. With that, Ezio hoisted her onto his left shoulder and returned to the rooftops.

* * *

One last stretch of civilization lay between Ezio and a chance to rest. Kaldwin's bridge was open to traffic almost 24/7, but he had chanced upon the one day and four hours scheduled for repairs. Two options presented themselves: Sneak around or above, or wait it out?

Time was of the essence, as Sophia, in his mind, was still at risk of discovery. He went in.

Luckily, the Dunwall manufacturing plant that was responsible for arc pylons had declared the vicious devices to be discontinued, leaving his only obstacle the prying eyes of the city watch. And a woman's sleeping form on one shoulder, but he was used to that.

The climb was not difficult, and he was soon strolling across the vast, unguarded roadway itself. Most guards never bothered to watch the street when it was raised to become inaccessible. Once on the other side, though, things got interesting.

Emily twitched in her sleep, sending an elixir vial skittering down the staircase he was moving down. Ezio froze immediately, but a guardsman was already on his way up. "Why now!" he cursed as plan after risky plan flew through his the last minute, he thought of a plan.

When the guard arrived, he simply saw a small, feminine foot disappearing up the stairs. Luckily, he was a younger troop, and an "inexperienced" man, to say the least. He gave chase, lust and duty competing for control over his mind.

Emily let out a girlish giggle as her foot brushed a heavy corner, and Ezio felt the footsteps approach even quicker as the guard let his nature take over. Sensing this, he dropped his softly smiling package and waited.

The guard rushed around the corner, expecting a young maid in distress to receive him.

He got a neck full of tempered steel.

* * *

Ezio flew through the final few alleyways with haste, taking a faster path down on the streets. It was not long before he found his goal: The abandoned apartment building was as inviting as...

Anything else, really. At least there was a bed.

Ezio, upon entrance, promptly dumped the young empress on the floor, calling out for his wife. Emily just let out another slurred chuckle and began snoring once more.

"Sophia, it is me, Ezio!"

Silence.

He never bothered calling again, seeing as the apartment had three rooms.

Ezio wasted no time in finding the small study, with Sophia's supplies strewn about randomly. He searched every last page of her handwriting, looking for any note that stated why she had gone out against his will. He only found her last Diary entry, scribbles violently cutting down the last sentence to illegibility.

She never left.

She was kidnapped. Or arrested, or whatever the future

And as Ezio growled in frustration, Emily's sedative wore off again, leaving behind nothing but a terrible thirst. The first liquid she spotted whas a bottle of 100 proof Turkish ale.

Ezio spun around when the bottle broke off the floor, now drained entirely. Noting his lack of sedatives, he was about to resort to knocking her out with blunt force when she mumbled a line.

"He'll get you... his magic mask... cool..."

"Mask?" But Emily was already gone, now searching for things to fill her stomach, now very much empty and obnoxiously loud.

_There's no way they're connected. No Lord Protector would stoop to residence in that pub._

_But if..._


End file.
